Signature: A David Wolf Mystery (David Wolf Mystery Thriller Series Book 9)

by Jeff Carson

  “Yeah-yeah-yeah … and you also found a phone, that you called and it dials a number that leads you here. The reason you suspect Deputy Attakai is his past … his sister’s past.”

  “Correct,” she said. “His sister was one of the—”

  “Yeah-yeah-yeah … so … his sister was a victim, though.” MacLean clamped down one eye. “Why would he have kidnapped his sister two years ago along with Rose Chissie. And … what about his alibi that night two years ago? You guys figured out where he was then?”

  For the first time Luke looked like she didn’t have an answer.

  “Aha.” MacLean pointed at her. “He has an alibi.”

  “We don’t know,” she said. “He won’t talk to us. But he wasn’t on duty.”

  “So, you don’t think Fred Wilcox had anything to do with this?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Luke shook her head. “We don’t know. But there are significant missing pieces of the signature. Like Detective Wolf said, there were two cell phones. They called one another often.”

  MacLean looked like he wanted to stand up. “But the existence of a second cell phone doesn’t exactly point to there being another killer.”

  “You are correct. But when taken with the missing pieces of the signature, then the two killers theory holds more water.”

  “Or maybe Fred Wilcox has just gotten smart about his approach,” MacLean said. “He didn’t leave DNA this time. Or he can’t get it up.”

  “He has a point there,” DA White said. “Here’s what I want to know. Why bury the truck?”

  “He ditched the evidence and came up.” Dr. Lorber turned in his seat and talked as if he and DA White were the only two in the room. “I’d say it is Fred Wilcox if I had to bet money. And he’s exacting some sort of revenge on Mary Attakai for getting away from him. He comes up here, stalks Mary Attakai’s brother for a while, biding his time for the right moment and the right way to get back at him. And then he sees the FBI come into town, makes his move. Kills Attakai’s girlfriend, gets his revenge, puts her on display to rub it in your faces.” Lorber pointed a long finger at the FBI agent next to him.

  MacLean bugged his eyes and stared into the ether. With a shake of his head he said, “So Fred Wilcox gets back at Mary Attakai by killing her older brother’s girlfriend? Why?”

  “Actually,” Lorber said, “you’re right, it would make more sense if he made his way straight for his little sister. If it were me, I’d get my revenge for her getting away by taking her out. Finish the job I failed at before.”

  They looked at Luke.

  “We’ve thought of that and have twenty-four-hour surveillance on Mary Attakai’s place in Durango.”

  “This is making no sense to me,” MacLean said. “If we think that—”

  ASAC Todd stood with his hands up. “Please! Please … if it all made sense, then we’d be charging a serial killer, or pair of serial killers, right now in court.” The handsome special agent scanned his blue gaze across the room like a searchlight. “I assure you we are working on this with all our resources. We have more people working in La Plata county as well. Clearly Detective Wolf here will be a good addition to our team.”

  “So what’s next?” MacLean asked.

  Luke cleared her throat and stepped forward. “We’ve obtained a search warrant for Deputy Attakai’s property. Detective Wolf, Special Agent Hannigan, and myself will conduct the search. We’d like help from Dr. Lorber and his team for a forensic sweep of the place. After that, we’ll come up with our plan of attack and execute from there.”

  “And let us know what’s happening every step of the way,” District Attorney White said.

  Luke put on her sarcastic smile, which was probably indistinguishable from the real deal to most of the people in the room, but Wolf had seen it many times before.

  “Of course we will,” she said.

  Chapter 13

  Anything?” Wolf asked, reaching Patterson’s desk.

  She had his cell phone plugged into her computer and she was looking at a picture of the maroon sedan. “No … not really. The guy was too far away. There’s a lot of shake in these pictures, and even if I could correct it the angle’s all wrong. I can’t get a look at his license plate.”

  “How about the car? Can you get a make on it?”

  She looked up at him. “Looks like a Pontiac Bonneville. I could figure out what year … but then what? The car could be licensed in any state.”

  “Start looking at the name Fred Wilcox and try and match that car with him.”

  “Who’s Fred Wilcox?” She unhooked his cell phone and gave it back to him.

  “A killer.”

  ***

  Doubling as an access road for the top of Rocky Points Ski Resort in the summer months, County Road 34 was a well-populated valley at the northern perimeter of the ski resort.

  Clusters of condos and townhomes built in the nineteen eighties, with their straight boxy lines and fading blue paint, were strewn up the narrow valley on both sides.

  Attakai’s place was one of these, an end unit in a row of three townhomes with a decent view of a tract of forest to his north side. It was small, a type of place the Denverites snatched up for seasonal retreats because one could technically ski-in-ski-out. Though one would have to ski up the valley for a few hundred yards to the nearest ski lift to “ski-out”. But there were shuttles that ran year round, bringing people to the base, and when they were done they could point their skis to the door.

  Which meant even though they were small, they pushed north of half a million dollars each. According to department records, Attakai rented his place.

  Wolf drove himself, trailing Luke and Hannigan who rode in Luke’s Tahoe. Behind Wolf, Dr. Lorber and Gene Fitzgerald followed in the county “meat wagon”, as Dr. Lorber referred to it, which was a Ford Econoline Van equipped with all the latest and greatest tools of the medical examiner trade.

  He parked in a vacant parking spot and got into a cool breeze that whistled through pines to the north. It looked like the clouds of yesterday were gone and not coming back, replaced by wind, blue sky, and piercing sun.

  Luke and Hannigan were already parked and appraising the place.

  Carrying matching aluminum cases, Dr. Lorber and Gene got out of their van and joined the huddle behind Luke’s Tahoe.

  “Kind of a shithole,” Hannigan said.

  “I live two buildings down,” Dr. Lorber said.

  Hannigan raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well I’m sure they’re great places.” Hannigan took a big breath through his flared nostrils. “It’s good to be back in the mountain air. No smog. No crack hobos. Just mountain air. Smell those pines.”

  Wolf wondered how the man smelled anything, because they were all standing in an eddy filled with the scent of his metrosexual cologne. The special agent’s jacket flapped open, revealing his muscled physique through his expensive-looking button up shirt. The tie was held firm by a silver bar tie clip, which matched the platinum chunk of a watch on his left wrist. He had taken the FBI dress code and added a few chapters of his own to it.

  Luke gestured at the row of townhomes. “With the dirt under her nails, I’d think we were looking for an outdoor shack, a barn or something with a dirt floor. Where’s she gonna get dirt under her nails here? Unless he kept her in the woods.”

  Dr. Lorber shook his head. “We’re south of the Rainbow Creek valley. This isn’t the right dirt anyway.”

  “Could have kept her tied up somewhere else north of Rainbow Creek,” Hannigan said.

  Luke flipped her sunglasses onto her head and read the warrant. Her cinnamon colored eyes flashed with intelligence, judgment, and calculation. To most men they were intimidating to look at, those eyes, and Wolf was seeing it firsthand again as Dr. Lorber and Gene watched her with anticipation.

  And then there was her skin, she was in her late thirties, but she still had the skin ela
sticity of a woman half her age. But even the great Kristen Luke hadn’t eluded time. At the corners of her eyes, she was acquiring some shallow crinkles.

  “What?”

  “You been in the Caribbean or something?” Wolf asked.

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact. Flamingo drug cartel bust in Punta Cana. Then I had a few vacation days lined up, so I read a few books on the beach.”

  Hannigan raised his eyebrows. “Must be nice, huh?”

  “All right,” she said. “We’re looking for a cell phone. And anything else that suggests deputy Attakai killed Sally Claypool two nights ago. Specifically, we’re looking for hemp rope. A sharp knife with her blood on it. A pile of ears in the corner, some toes, and any other anomalies. Doctor Lorber and Gene will be looking for the small stuff—drains, sinks, and the like—and we’ll conduct a thorough search of the rest. Let’s go.”

  She marched across the parking lot to a steep set of wooden stairs that led to the front door. “And it was my first vacation in three years. And now I’m up here with you assholes, so I wouldn’t be too envious of me.”

  She fished a keychain out of her pocket and climbed the stairs. “Which one is it?”

  Out of male heterosexual reflex, Wolf watched her backside climb a few steps.

  Visions of Kristen Luke’s naked body swirled in his mind. He and Luke had slept together for many months after they’d met several years ago, eventually breaking off their relationship due to the physical distance between them. She lived in Denver, and he lived two and a half hours away in the mountains. Not only that, it was clear the relationship was a merely physical outlet for both of them, and the commitment they both had to their jobs would never allow either of them to give up and move nearer the other.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Wolf caught Hannigan looking at him. The special agent’s mouth was curled into a knowing smile.

  “What?” Wolf asked.

  Hannigan darted to the top of the stairs, the wood creaking under his considerable bulk. Lorber and Gene followed, and Wolf took up the rear.

  While Luke and Hannigan fiddled with the lock he thought of Lauren again, and their time in bed yesterday morning. Then he thought of the tear running down her face as she’d given him the “we have to talk” speech.

  “What the hell’s your problem?” Luke said as he reached the open doorway.

  “Nothing.”

  She eyed him suspiciously and put on a pair of rubber gloves. “You’re hiding something.” After a few seconds she lost the staring contest and waved him inside. “Age before beauty.”

  Lorber and Hannigan were already deep inside the darkened interior.

  Hannigan stood in the hallway. “The place reeks.”

  It did reek. Like Jeremy Attakai needed to ditch the shoes lined up inside the doorway and start a strict regimen of athlete’s foot treatment.

  “Sally Claypool stayed here often? "Hannigan reached the kitchen at the end of the hall and stood with his hands on his hips, appraising the place with clear disgust. “Shithole.”

  A pizza box was lying on the linoleum kitchen counter, still cracked open and revealing a pile of old crusts. At least thirty empty cans of Bud Light were pushed into a corner on the counter, Attakai’s first stage of a recycling effort.

  Lorber set his case on the ground and opened it up.

  “I’ll be in here,” Gene said, disappearing into the bedroom off the living room.

  A smell came from the refrigerator, or from the trashcan next to it, or both. The place needed a deep clean, and for all the time Sally Claypool supposedly stayed here, Attakai could have used a woman’s touch.

  Of course, Wolf had seen much, much worse, with the places they’d stepped foot inside throughout the county.

  Wolf had to cut the guy some slack. It was a typical single male’s abode, and could have been Rachette’s on any given day, or Wolf’s on any given day pre-Lauren.

  “I’m opening this place up.” Luke went to the sliding glass door. It took both her hands and a mighty pull to open it. “Place is depressing. What’s with you men? It’s like scented candles are this mythical thing that only women can purchase at some secret, magical market. And how about cleaning supplies?”

  “Hey,” Hannigan said, “You’ve seen my place. Is it anything like this? Hell no.”

  Wolf watched their banter with interest. Up to this point Special Agent Hannigan had been a Grade-B asshole as far as Wolf could see. But now that they were alone, they seemed to have an easy brother-sister rapport.

  Hannigan walked to the living room and shook his head. “Wouldn’t be caught dead.”

  “Yeah, but you’re a homosexual.”

  Wolf flicked a glance between them. Luke was dead serious and Hannigan didn’t bat an eye, he just shrugged his huge shoulders and walked into the bedroom.

  They followed inside. Gene was in a small bathroom off the bedroom searching the drain.

  The bed was unmade, sheets thrown to one side. The stuffy air held the mustiness of a single man’s bedroom, and it didn’t take a detective and two special agents to see it spawned from the dirty clothes piled in the corner.

  Luke plucked a pair of women’s underwear from the pile. “I guess that proves it. She was crazy.”

  In the other corner sat a television on an old table and the wall to the left had a sliding door closet. A beer-can-turned-tobacco spitter sat on an end table next to the bed.

  “He a good deputy?” Luke asked.

  They looked at Wolf.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never worked with the guy. He was hired by MacLean a couple years ago. He’s a hunter. A fisherman.” Wolf remembered what Rachette had told him.

  Wolf went to a beat up dresser and pulled open the top drawer. Inside there were two pairs of boxer shorts and three pairs of socks. The next drawer had folded clothing. It was unimpressive. Nothing stood out as the belongings of a murderer.

  “Just to be clear here, we’re thinking he was involved with the rest of the murders down south,” Wolf said.

  Hannigan began rifling through coat pockets in the closet. “If we find the phone, then that’s exactly what we’re saying. Why? You don’t see it?”

  Wolf opened the next drawer. “MacLean was right. Attakai’s sister was kidnapped. She escaped Fred Wilcox’s clutches. Why would Jeremy be involved with kidnapping his own sister?”

  “He wasn’t,” Luke said. “According to Mary Attakai’s report with the La Plata SD, it was Fred Wilcox who kidnapped her and her friend. Not her older brother. But what if Fred wasn’t supposed to pick her up that night? Have you thought of that?”

  Wolf said nothing.

  “What if Fred called Jeremy, you know, after he’s picked up the two girls and has them knocked out in the back of his Explorer and he says, ‘Hey, I got two girls.’” Luke narrowed her eyes. “And then, maybe Jeremy figures out Fred kidnapped his sister. Maybe …” she stopped talking.

  “Maybe what?” Wolf asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just saying, there’s ways Attakai could be involved here. It’s fishy that his sister was the only one who got away.”

  “With a chopped off toe,” Hannigan said under his breath.

  “What?”

  Hannigan looked at Wolf, and then his partner. “Yeah. Her toe was cut off.”

  “You never mentioned that in the meeting.”

  “The end of that meeting was a shit-show. It slipped my mind. That’s why we have a set number of people on these task forces, you know. There’re too many ideas flying around. And I shouldn’t have told anyone anything,” she looked at Wolf, “except for you. Someone has loose lips. You see the news this morning talking about the Van Gogh killer? Who leaked that?”

  Wolf opened the third drawer and found it empty save a pack of cigarettes.

  “No blood in either of the drains in the bathroom,” Gene said. “Nor the shower.”

  Lorber poked his head into the bedroom. “Nothing in the kitchen sink. Any
thing interesting in here?”

  “Just interesting smells, Doctor,” Hannigan said.

  Lorber tilted his head. “I see a cell phone on the top shelf of the closet.”

  “What?” Hannigan pulled his hand out of a jacket pocket and got on his toes.

  Lorber walked over and reached up with a basketball center’s reach, plucking a cell phone off the shelf.

  Chapter 14

  Where did you keep her?” Agent Brian Todd’s voice was like a vinyl recording coming out of the speaker above Wolf’s head.

  Deputy Attakai sat motionless, his head in his hands, his elbows on the metal interrogation room table.

  “He’s not gonna talk,” Luke said.

  “No shit.” Hannigan preened his nails, not bothering to look through the one-way mirror.

  “It’s over,” Agent Todd was saying inside. “Okay, Deputy? Do you understand? We have you now. We know you’ve been working with Fred Wilcox from the beginning. So I want you to tell me everything. Tell me.”

  Attakai shook his head in his hands. “We weren’t.”

  “What’s that?” Agent Todd leaned forward. “Tell me, Jeremy. Come on. Is this about your sister?”

  Attakai shook his head some more.

  “It is, isn’t it? She wasn’t supposed to be taken by Fred that night two years ago. What happened after that? Did you and Fred split up? You guys got together and buried his car and split up the little team you had going down there? And now you’re up here … and … what happened? You decided to start up again. Why?”

  Deputy Attakai leaned back in his chair, revealing a calm face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know why that cell phone was in my house. I’ve never seen it in my life. That’s all I’m going to say.”

  Agent Todd looked at him with utter disappointment and stood from his chair. He nodded at the other agent in the room and they walked out.

  The door opened. Hannigan stood at attention as his boss entered the observation room.